Well, hello all! I swore to myself that I wouldn't post another Death Note fic until River Below was finished...but this idea was too good to pass up! First off, even though this is highly based off The Grudge, it is NOT a crossover!
Next up..warnings. Extreme blood, gore, scary moments, language, you name it it's in here. (Except for sex...XD I'm not that type of writer sorry.
Finally, Disclaimer! I own nothing mentioned here. They belong to their rightful owners. Besides...I wouldn't want to live with myself for killing off all the good characters.
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Beyond stared at the blank steel ceiling. It was literally the only thing he could do. You see, Beyond Birthday was currently lying in a prison cell, his own private steel walled room with a small slot for a tray of food.
It had no windows, which meant no human contact. He blinked his large crimson red eyes. His eyes now matched his emotions. He had been in that empty cold room for what seemed like eternity.
He hated L, Naomi Misora, and everyone who helped throw him in there. B screamed as an image of L burned itself into the front of his mind.
He could hear voices laughing at attempted to block them out, unaware that the voices were inside his head. He focused his red eyes into a glare at the ceiling, imagining that L was on the other side.
Using all the force he could muster he sat up, scooted as close as possible to one of the walls and began to slam his head into the wall multiple times.
All he could see was red, he couldn't think, he stopped in the motion of beating himself to a concussion. An immense pain flooded his body.
B attempted to yell, to grab some guards' attention. All he could make was a rattling gasping sound; his vocal cords had stopped working quite a few weeks earlier.
His eyes widened, and he attempted to push himself off the floor, only to fall sideways. He lifted his head craning it towards the door scanning it for any sign of opening.
After a few seconds panic began to settle in. B frantically attempted to move his arms, the straightjacket didn't shift, but his elbows certainly did.
A extra searing pain joined the first, a clear sign that he had broken or fractured his arms. He took a deep breath, feeling a slight chill running down his spine, and the pain lessening. He took his last chance to call out.
The rattling groan echoed throughout the hallway, causing cellmates to talk amongst themselves wondering who the latest Kira victim had been.
Two guards who had been stationed at the end of the hallway groaned. One shrugged it off shifting so he could go back to his nap. The other sighed, getting up and heading towards the cell.
"Damn Kira…making my job so damn hard." He grumbled, opening the door. He blinked, staring at what was the penitentiary's most famous cellmates.
The man was lying on the floor his eyes closed. The straightjacket loosened when he had stopped straining it, showing that his arms were bent the wrong way.
He rolled his eyes, and stooped over the body, placing his fingers on the proper place of his neck; to make sure he was dead and not just pulling a trick.
A deep rattling, inhuman sound echoed around him. The guard flung himself around to stare at a mirror in one of the other cells. He could clearly see a person standing behind him, with pale-blue toned skin; tangled dull black hair covered the figures eyes.
He turned quickly to face the person, grabbing his gun from its holster. He blinked rubbing his eyes; the room was empty except for the dead body and himself.
He shook his head, blaming the time of night. He guard left the room, to make the necessary calls before he left.
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The guard, whose name was Simon Garcia, yawned opening the door to his apartment. He hated the late shift, and detested the fact that it was the only job he could get.
Simon shook his head, for some reason he couldn't get the image of that person out of his head. It…freaked him out he guessed.
He froze, the lights were flickering, even thought they had no reason to. He heard a deep rattling groan, before something grabbed his leg. Simon's eyes shot down, his hand on his gun and firing before he knew it.
A hand was wrapped around one leg, the owner of that hand didn't seem to be bothered by the gunfire. The next thing he knew, what ever it was crawled, pushing itself up his body, wrapping both hands around his head and face. He saw glowing crimson red eyes before he screamed, it was cut off mere seconds after it started.
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Alrightly then! This is my first attempt at anything remotely scary...so, reviews give you chapters! That's my fanfic writer's motto!